Moving to Alfheim
by ninepen
Summary: Loki's making that whistling noise in his sleep again, and it's keeping Thor awake, so Thor decides to wake Loki up, too. A late-night conversation between the two boys reveals something Loki fears, and a conversation between Thor and his mother the next morning reveals something Thor envies. And it has everything and nothing to do with moving to Alfheim.
1. It All Started with a Whistle

_This story consists of three chapters, possibly plus an epilogue. For how it came to be, please see the _Moving to Alfheim_ section of my profile. It's the same conception of the characters as in _Beneath_ and _Magic & Mead_ and I consider it back story for those two, but it can be read 100% independent of them._

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_**Moving to Alfheim**_

**Chapter 1: It All Started with a Whistle (Not Really)**

Thor woke to a terrible whistling noise. Well, that wasn't exactly true. That's what he would tell Loki, but really he woke to a full bladder, and after he went back to bed, _then _came the terrible whistling noise. It wouldn't let him go back to sleep, which was close enough to waking him up. He got out of bed again and crossed to the other side of the room where Loki slept in the bed they used to share, and still sometimes did, because, well, why not? They were used to it. They'd slept at each other's side since Loki was born, some nine and a half years ago.

Thor had his own room now, a suite of rooms, his own entire chambers on the floor below. He'd been incredibly excited about it, as he had about everything connected to his Announcing ceremony, when he'd turned ten and been officially given the title of "Prince of Asgard" amidst an all-day celebration attended by everyone who was anyone across the Nine Realms. (Six of them, anyway. No one invited anyone from Helheim, Jotunheim, or Midgard. But it was still customary to refer to them as nine.) Thor had helped choose the furniture design and selected his own sheets and blankets and furs. Loki had been with him and their mother on all of their outings, and while Mother had tried to involve Loki, asking him to keep an eye out for things he liked because _his _tenth birthday was only ten months away, Loki had clung to Thor's hand and remained almost completely silent, as he had when he was very young.

Thor had slept in his new bed with its new sheets and blankets and furs for precisely four nights before waking up in the morning to find Loki asleep in the bed beside him. He'd laid there waiting for Loki to wake up – and the fact that he had to do this told him that Loki hadn't been sleeping well – and once he did, he'd taken him by the hand, gone upstairs, and announced he liked his old room better. His toys and books and games and puzzles – and his old bed – were back in place by nightfall. Thor didn't mind. If Loki wanted him to stay, he'd stay. He knew he was ten, a youth and not a child. All the Nine Realms knew it. (Six of them, anyway. Maybe eight of them in this case; Helheim and Jotunheim might have heard about it.)

And though he would never admit it – except to Loki, because his little brother was embarrassed that he couldn't sleep by himself, and they told each other everything – he'd had a hard time falling asleep in those chambers by himself, too, all alone on the entire floor except for an Einherjar skulking in the shadows in the corridor. More than once an unidentifiable noise had caused him to bolt straight up, clutching a pillow to his chest. (He left out the part about the pillow when he told Loki about that.)

Loki was happy, Thor was happy, and Thor was a Prince of Asgard, so everyone else was happy. No one complained, anyway, and that was good enough for Thor.

Thor wasn't happy right now. Loki was making that whistling noise again. He still wasn't sure exactly how he did it. He'd tried to figure it out while he was trying to sleep in his now-abandoned bedchamber, maybe twice. Maybe three times. Or four.

He got onto the bed and bent over Loki, who was on his side facing the wall. Sure enough, Loki's right thumbnail was inside his mouth, between his teeth, where he was alternately biting it and sucking on it, and somehow, something in the position of the rest of his fingers produced a whistling sound as he breathed. Loki didn't always chew on his thumbnails in his sleep, and he didn't always make a whistle when he did. Thor thought he didn't do it much at all anymore, actually, but he wasn't sure, because, well, if it happened, it happened at night, when Thor was asleep. Loki's whistle wasn't loud enough to wake Thor up – little was – but it was annoying enough to _keep_ him awake once woken.

It was the one thing he hadn't missed when he'd moved to his own private chambers. His attempts to produce the whistle there, maybe five times, maybe six, were driven solely by boredom and curiosity. (That was what he'd tell anyone who asked, anyway. Maybe even Loki.)

"Loki," Thor whispered. Loki was a much lighter sleeper than him. But Loki didn't stir, although his breathing became uneven. The whistle disappeared, then returned. "Loki, wake up. Stop whistling," he said a little louder. Loki still showed no signs of waking, but he started muttering in his sleep. Thor caught a couple of sounds that might have been a muffled "no" and a "don't." Thor sat down beside Loki and gave his shoulder a good push – if he was deep in some bad dream, that usually did the trick. And it did. Thor had known it would, because Loki often kicked when he had bad dreams, and that _did_ wake Thor up.

Loki jerked as he woke, his hand falling from his mouth. He twisted around at the waist and neck. "What?" he asked, his voice scratchy with sleep.

"You were chewing on your thumbnail and making that whistling noise. You woke me up all the way over there," Thor said, angling a thumb over to the right, toward his bed.

"Oh," Loki said, still waking up. He'd never heard himself whistle, and sometimes thought Thor was imagining it. Thor tended to get mad when he said so, though. "I'm sorry," he said, contrite even if he hadn't been whistling, because he hadn't meant to wake Thor up, however he'd done it. He twisted back around toward the wall then, and pulled the covers up more tightly around his chin, but now that he was awake and bits of his dream were coming back to him he was worried, and he wasn't sure he'd be able to fall asleep.

Thor watched his brother dig his fists into the covers, listened to his deep sigh. He felt bad for sounding so mean. It wasn't like Loki was doing it on purpose. "Loki…_I'm_ sorry. I know you can't help it."

Loki didn't say anything. He just stared at the wall and tried to stay still, hoping Thor would fall asleep, maybe even right there beside him like he always used to.

"Did you have a bad dream?"

Loki bit his bottom lip, hesitating. "Yes," he finally admitted.

"What was it about?" Loki didn't answer, so Thor lifted the covers and slid down underneath them, then rolled over onto his side and came to rest on his left elbow, facing Loki's back. He gave Loki's shoulder a gentler push. "Hey, you got me out of bed with your thumbnail-sucking. You might as well make it up to me by turning over here and telling me about your dream." No answer. "It won't seem as bad if you tell me about it."

Loki hesitated a moment longer, then rolled over onto his opposite side to face his brother. He pulled the covers tightly to his chin again, and tucked in his knees and arms close to his body. He stared down at the narrow empty space between him and Thor. "Do you remember Muli?"

"Sure." They used to play with him and a few other boys and girls after their lessons sometimes, before Thor – and Loki with him even though he wasn't technically old enough – had started their training as future warriors when Thor turned ten. Thor hadn't seen the boy since.

Loki's eyes flickered up to Thor's a few times before finally settling there. "Today after Mother took me to see Eir we went to the park, and Muli was there. He told me he has an older brother, and he moved to Alfheim."

Thor started to say something, but now that Loki had worked up the courage to tell the story, it started tumbling out in a rush and he cut Thor off. "His brother moved to Alfheim to be some kind of a spice trader, and then he fell in love with some girl there and now he's going to marry her. Muli's never even met her. They're going to go to Alfheim for the wedding, and then they're going to come back to Asgard and his brother's going to stay on Alfheim."

"Is Muli excited?"

Loki scrunched up his face in confusion. "Why would he be excited?"

"He gets to go on a trip to Alfheim. _I_ would be excited."

Loki sighed. He didn't know if Muli was excited. He didn't _seem _excited. Well, maybe a little. Loki hadn't been paying much attention to what Muli thought about it. _Loki_ thought it was awful. And it had settled in the back of his mind and bothered him all day, enough so that Mother had asked him twice what was wrong, but Loki wasn't sure what was wrong. He just hadn't liked that story.

And then he'd dreamed about it. But not about Muli and whatever his brother's name was – Loki couldn't remember. "In my dream, _you_ moved to Alfheim."

"Me? I'm pretty sure I'll never move away to Alfheim. It's nice there, but it's not Asgard. And besides, I'm going to be king of Asgard_._" Thor did like it there; it was perhaps even his second favorite realm. But it was a far distant second to Asgard. (No one called Alfheim "the Realm Eternal" or "the jewel of Yggdrasil's crown." They just called it Alfheim. Except on Svartalfheim, where they called it Ljosalfheim. And that was no big improvement.)

"But what if you go and move away somewhere else, even somewhere else on Asgard?"

Thor let his gaze drift away, mulling that one over. "I guess I never really thought about it. But I suppose I'll keep living in the palace, since that's where the king lives."

"But what if you fall in love with some girl, and you want to marry her, and I don't even know her?"

"Loki…what's this all about? This is getting weird. I don't want to think about all that stuff. Are you…is there some girl you like?"

Loki barely heard the question, and didn't process the words at all. The weight on his chest became unbearable and the question he'd been trying to ask the whole time burst forth. "What if you go away and leave me alone?" His chest felt a little better but now he was close to tears.

Thor got it then. Neither brother liked being alone, but it was different for Loki. Thor would get grumpy and bored and go find someone to talk to, but Loki would get worried and scared and withdrawn if left on his own for too long. Loki worried about a lot of things he really didn't need to. Like this. "I won't ever leave you alone, Loki. We're brothers."

Loki shook his head and only worried more. "But so are Muli and…and _his_ brother."

"I didn't even know Muli _had_ a brother. He must be a lot older."

"He's eighty-seven." Loki didn't know why he remembered that and not the brother's name. Something also with "M"…

"Eighty-seven! Loki, he probably moved to Alfheim before Muli was even born. You and I, we're _real_ brothers. We're almost the same age! Attached by invisible strings. If I ever move away to Alfheim, I'll take you with me," Thor said almost defiantly, as though he might make such a move tomorrow, and woe to anyone who tried to stop him from bringing his brother with him. (Ten-year-old princes didn't actually have _that_ much freedom, though, despite what Thor often thought.)

"You promise?" Loki asked, half-afraid Thor might be only teasing. He'd done more of that lately. But Loki could also imagine Thor taking the lead, grabbing his hand, marching straight to the bifrost and ordering Heimdall to send the two of them to Alfheim, and now that Thor was officially a Prince of Asgard, Heimdall would probably have to do what Thor told him. (Heimdall would have a different opinion on that, though.)

Thor smiled at his brother. "I promise." Of course he promised. If Thor did it, Loki wanted to do it with him, and Thor liked that. He wanted Loki there, too. Loki looked up to Thor for guidance, protection, and advice, and it made Thor feel proud to be those things for Loki, even though the ten months Thor had on him didn't exactly qualify him for such a role. It didn't matter. When asked his advice, Thor would imitate his father's _I'm thinking deep and serious and kingly thoughts_ look and provide it. When asked for a promise, he'd provide that, too.

Loki sighed and relaxed a little. If Thor moved to Alfheim and took him with him, that wouldn't be so bad, although Alfheim wouldn't be Loki's favorite place to go. And Mother wouldn't be there, or Father, either. Loki decided that if Thor wanted to move to Alfheim, he would try very hard to convince him to stay on Asgard instead. "Thor?"

"What?"

"Will you stay here tonight?"

Thor smiled again and reached out to tousle Loki's dark hair. He hated it when people did it to him, but he liked doing it to Loki. "You just try to make me leave. The floor's cold, and my bed's gone cold, and my old spot is already warmed up here. I'm not going anywhere."

Loki smiled and snuggled further into his pillow, settling in for sleep again, facing Thor instead of the wall this time.

"But no more thumbnail chewing. You'll wake up with mittens on your hands," Thor warned.

"Don't!" Loki said with a giggle, crossing his arms over his chest and shoving his hands under his armpits.

Thor laughed and reached out to give his brother a hug, and Loki unwrapped his arms to return it.

"Put your hands back," Thor ordered with mock authority.

Loki rushed to mock compliance, his face comical with seriousness and fright before he dissolved into laughter again.

Thor kept one arm slung over his brother, and they fell asleep like that not long after.

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_Thanks for reading, thanks for reviewing. Your questions and comments are most welcome!_

_This story is quite short and completely written in "short-hand" already. I'll have the other chapters up...perhaps within a week? Hard to say for sure but it won't be terribly long in any event._


	2. The True Meaning of Alfheim

_**Moving to Alfheim**_

**Chapter 2: The True Meaning of Alfheim**

The next morning, Thor sat at the breakfast table watching Loki's back as he left the room. He'd knocked a glass over and spilled juice all over himself and his clothes, and now had to go wash up and change. Although it wasn't very nice of him, Thor knew, he was a little bit glad Loki had done it, because it was usually _Thor_ who did things like knock glasses over.

"Where do you think you and Loki would like to sleep when Loki turns ten?" Frigga asked as a servant wiped up the juice on the table and chair and floor. She knew better than to phrase it any way other than "you and Loki." Someday they'd stop sleeping in their parents' chambers; someday they'd stop sleeping in the same bedchamber; someday they'd stop winding up in the same bed as they had last night. But if Thor's tenth birthday hadn't changed anything, there was no reason to expect that Loki's tenth birthday would.

Thor chewed on a bite of sausage as he thought. "Well…," he began, then swallowed. "Maybe we could both move into my new chambers. Maybe you could put our beds in there?" He stabbed a potato cube with his fork and ate it.

"Yes, we could do that. But do you think Loki will be ready for it?" Frigga knew better than to phrase it any other way; by "Loki" she meant "you and Loki." Thor may be full of his father's bravado, but Frigga had assigned a nursemaid to sit in secret just outside his bedchamber that first night, in his antechamber, all night long, just in case. The woman had reported to her how Thor had remained awake for a very long time, tossing and turning, before his breathing evened out into sleep. She'd wanted to be there herself, but she'd stayed with Loki instead, her son who as a baby had almost never cried – except when left alone.

"Loki will be fine if _I'm_ with him," Thor said confidently. "Besides, that's a long time from now."

Frigga smiled. Thor was probably right. And _he_ would be fine, too. It would be a good transition period for them. But six months…it would be gone in the blink of an eye. Her children were growing up so fast. "We'll still have his own chambers prepared with things he likes, so that when he's ready, he can move into them."

Thor shrugged. He didn't really care if he and Loki stayed in the same chambers forever. Loki liked it better that way, and, truthfully, so did he. Who else was he going to share his deepest thoughts with late at night? Who else was going to know that Loki was having a bad dream and wake him up? (Who else was going to know that _he_ was having a bad dream and wake _him_ up?) As long as Loki grew out of that thumbnail-chewing thing.

Loki's bad dream from the night before then came back to him. "Mother…?"

"Yes?" Frigga said, looking up from the breakfast she'd turned her attention back to. She'd given him a casual glance at first, then when she looked again she realized he had a rather serious, somewhat concerned expression on his face, a look that for once made him look a lot like Loki.

"Do you think I'll ever move away to live on Alfheim?"

"Wh-what? Ah, well, no, I wouldn't think so. This is your home, and one day this will be your realm." Frigga wondered where the question came from, but it was Loki she sometimes had to push to tell her what he was thinking; if Thor had something more to say, he would say it.

Thor thought that over; it made sense. It was basically what he told Loki. "That's what I thought," he said a moment later.

They finished breakfast – they'd been almost done anyway – and the servants began clearing the table. Thor grabbed another biscuit from the platter as it was removed. Loki still wasn't back, and he'd better hurry or they'd be late for their lessons. That was all right, though. Thor was a Prince of Asgard now and the lessons would just have to wait for him.

A new question occurred to him as he chewed on a bit of biscuit. He hurried to swallow it and coughed a couple of times before he succeeded.

"Are you all right?" Frigga asked.

He nodded. "Do you think Loki will ever move away and live on Alfheim?"

This time Frigga wrinkled her brow in confusion, wondering why this sudden concern about Alfheim. It was true their last trip there hadn't ended well, but that was…Frigga thought back…nearly a year ago. "I suppose, someday, if he wanted to, he could," she finally said. "But right now, and for a long time to come, you're both going to live right here, either in these chambers, or in your own chambers on the floors below us. No one is moving to Alfheim or anywhere else anytime soon."

Thor nodded, satisfied. But then, as he thought back over what his mother had said, he realized there was a difference between what she'd said about _him_ moving to Alfheim and what she'd said about _Loki_ moving to Alfheim. "So…Loki can move to Alfheim if he wants to, when he grows up…but I can't?"

Frigga watched her son, with his neatly combed blond hair and his neatly pressed red tunic and perfectly arranged leathers – it all started out that way in the morning, anyway – his wide blue eyes, the hope on his face and in his posture that he would be told no, that wasn't what she'd meant. Before her eyes he was gaining his very first understanding of what it was to be king, that it was not just swordfights and glorious battles and being able to tell people what to do. It was an important lesson. And her heart broke just a bit for her little boy.

Thor was waiting for an answer. She wanted to give him the one he wanted. She wanted to lie. A ten-year-old boy should not have to bear such a burden on his small shoulders. His future should not have to define him this young.

But in the end, Frigga couldn't lie to her son. She'd done enough of that already. The best she could do was try to soften the blow. "If you really wanted to, you might be able to live on Alfheim for a time. But eventually you'll have to live here, Thor. The king of Asgard can't live on Alfheim. And in the meantime, you'll have to learn how to _be _a king, and you can't do that from Alfheim, either."

Thor's face fell, his blue eyes stared down at his plate with its half-eaten biscuit.

"May I take that, my prince? Are you finished?" a servant asked.

His head swung around, to face her, this woman about whom he knew nothing except her name – Totra – and for a moment everything was her fault. "My name is _Thor_," he told her, then turned the opposite direction, toward his mother, and slid out of his chair as Totra glanced nervously between the prince and the queen. "I'm going to class now," he announced.

"Aren't you going to wait for Loki?"

"I don't want to be late just because Loki is."

Frigga sighed and watched him go. When they had breakfast together, he and Loki usually both hugged her before they left for their lessons. Thor had just given her half a dozen signals he was upset. She suspected they would have to talk further about this, but she also didn't want to draw further attention to it. It was all so ridiculous, anyway. She knew Thor didn't want to move to Alfheim, or anywhere else. And Loki certainly didn't want to move there, or, at least at this age, anywhere where his big brother wasn't.

But Alfheim wasn't Alfheim. Alfheim was freedom. Loki had it, and Thor didn't.

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Loki arrived about ten minutes after Thor, who instinctively turned toward the door when he entered, but then proceeded to ignore him as much as possible afterward. It wasn't easy; they were the only two students, and their tutors strove to make their lessons as interactive and engaging as possible. There was no one else to interact with but Loki and whichever tutor was teaching that particular lesson.

Thor felt like someone, somewhere, must be playing some grand trick on him. This year for their cosmology lessons they were doing in-depth studies of each of the Nine Realms. Yesterday the boys had given their final presentation on Vanaheim – Mother and Father had even come down to see it, though Father had arrived late and only saw the last part, when Thor had re-enacted the most famous Vanir folk tale and "slain" Loki, the beast who was destroying their land. Loki had done a very convincing job with the beast in his death throes, arms and legs trembling and shaking up in the air while Loki lay on his back. And Thor had run victorious circles around him once all four limbs suddenly fell to the wooden floor with a satisfying thud, then recited the verses of triumph, vowing eternal protection of the land. It was marvelous.

Today, Lady Ingerun announced that they were beginning their study of Alfheim. Perfect.

Loki turned to his brother and smiled; Alfheim was now something else secret they shared. "Maybe we can ask Muli about it," he said.

"Muli doesn't know anything about Alfheim. It's his _brother_ who moved there, not him."

"Don't worry, boys. We have Light Elves living here on Asgard, a few who have even taken Asgardian citizenship. We'll have plenty of guest speakers to come tell us about Alfheim, and we'll take at least one field trip there, possibly two. I've already arranged for a lesson in the pottery-making of the northern…

Thor tuned her words out. He would rather hear about anything other than Alfheim right now.

At lunchtime they took their satchels and walked to the nearby children's park, as they did most days when they didn't plan an adventure instead. There were usually some thirty other boys and girls there around Thor's and Loki's ages on lunch break at the same time. "I wish Muli's classes were here near the palace," Loki said, mostly to have something to say, since Thor was being unusually quiet.

Thor didn't respond. He really wished Loki would quit bringing up Muli and his stupid brother on stupid Alfheim.

Loki fell silent again, wondering what was bothering Thor. Then he realized what the problem was. Thor got grumpy when he didn't get enough sleep, and Loki's whistling had woken his brother up, and then he'd _kept_ him up with all his questions and fears. And Thor was such a good big brother, he always listened and never told him to be quiet and go to sleep. Loki promised himself he'd make sure it didn't happen again tonight.

When they reached the park, the brothers dropped their satchels and ran to grab lightweight wooden swords from the red bin near the climbing tree. The game was already in progress so they rushed to join it, the enchanted swords now reflecting sunlight off what appeared to be sharp metal blades. "Prince Thor! You're on our team! We're the Aesir. We're fighting the Frost Giants. You too, Loki," seven-year-old Fandral added, running over to their side.

Loki nodded eagerly, but Thor frowned. "Don't call me that. Just Thor."

"But you said-"

"I know what I said. And _now_ I'm saying I want you to call me Thor."

Fandral shrugged. "All right, Thor. You'll be on our team, won't you? We're red and they're blue."

Thor nodded, and took off toward the center of the battle, Loki and Fandral close on his heels. He told his sword he was on the red team, and it took on a slight red glow around the edges. Thor and Loki and a few of the others had something of an unfair advantage since they'd begun to learn how to actually wield a sword, and they took out several of their Frost Giant opponents, signified by their swords reverting to their natural wooden appearance.

"Prince Thor!" some girl called.

Thor whirled around to find who it was. He spotted her; she wanted him to come help her and a boy who'd been backed up against a tree by three Frost Giants. "Don't call me-" Thor froze, the tip of a wooden sword pressing against his upper back. He glanced down at his sword and watched as the metal changed back into wood.

"I've got you, Prince Thor. You're out!" his attacker yelled.

He whirled around again. "Don't call me 'Prince Thor'!" Thor yelled back.

The boy, a solid two years younger than him, took a frightened step back. "But you said-"

"I don't care what I said!" Thor stomped away and threw his stupid sword back in the stupid bin. He grabbed his satchel from the ground and went over to an empty wooden bench and sat down in a huff. (And yes, it was Thor who'd announced to the whole group four months ago that he was now officially a Prince of Asgard and they must therefore address him as such.)

Several minutes later Loki dropped down beside him, opening his satchel and pulling out his lunch with giddy happiness. "I lasted longer than you this time, Thor, did you see? Fandral and I took out three Frost Giants."

"Good job, Loki," Thor said with the best smile he could manage, which wasn't much. "Who took you out?"

"Kobbi and his sister Katla teamed up on me. I think the Frost Giants are going to win."

Thor nodded absently and bit into his second sandwich, while Loki began to tell him about the entire battle.

The story came to an end, and Loki was disappointed that Thor hadn't commented, or jumped in with any of his own stories. He reached into his satchel for his other sandwich and held it out to Thor.

Thor started to take it, then shook his head. "No, thanks, Loki. I'm full. I'm going to go back to the classroom."

Loki watched in stunned silence as Thor gathered his things and left. Thor was _really_ upset if he was turning down Loki's sandwich and giving up outside time to go back to their lessons before he had to. He thought about his whistling and tried to figure out how he could make sure he didn't do it anymore, ever again.

/

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Thor's mood continued to spiral downward under his tutors' conspiracy. He'd forgotten that in their history class they were studying the Great Fracture, when Alfheim and Svartalfheim, formerly united under a Light Elf king, had violently parted ways. Thor decided to ignore the history tutor and draw, but that was even less successful than ignoring Loki, for it was hard to escape his notice when there was only him and Loki to keep an eye on. Thor's half-done drawing of a horse was confiscated with a sharp reprimand.

His mood was at its darkest when he and Loki reported for training. Here, until he and Loki had memorized all the standard blocks and strikes and counter-strikes with their wooden practice swords – and how to make each move without actually harming an opponent – the young princes were again the only two students. Only once they could be trusted with actual blades, even the slightly blunted ceremonial ones, would they move into group training with swords and all sorts of weapons, as well as hand-to-hand fighting.

Today it was hard to look into Loki's eyes and be anything but angry. _Loki_ could move to Alfheim, or anywhere he wanted in all the Nine Realms (really only six – Helheim was out of the question, and Jotunheim and Muspelheim were really only acceptable for short visits, unless you _liked_ being frozen or charred meat). Thor would be stuck on Asgard for the rest of his life. It wasn't fair. _Loki_ could travel the realms while _Thor _sat permanently stuck to a throne, bored. _Loki_ could move away and marry some girl and _Thor_ wouldn't even know her. _Loki_ could leave him behind and do whatever he wanted to.

_Loki_ was getting tired. It was harder for him, these exercises and mock fights. Unlike the swords at the children's park, unlike the ones in the toychest in their bedchamber, these block-shaped practice swords were almost the full size and weight of a standard sword. Thor usually left tired and sweating, but Loki, still six months younger than when boys usually began this training and possessing a slender, light frame, often couldn't make it through the full session.

"Good, good, Thor," Ossur said, standing a few feet away. (He'd already gotten the lecture about how he should address Thor.)

"Now up and to the right, good. Loki, you have to put more shoulder into it. He'll knock the sword out of your hand like that. The momentum will…that's better, good. Then down…back…good. Up and to the left, Thor. Good…that's it…good. Back to starting positions now."

Loki's arm dropped and the tip of his sword dragged on the ground. With his left sleeve he mopped up sweat from his brow, then he ran his hand through his black hair to get it out of his face.

"You all right, Loki?" Ossur asked.

Loki nodded enthusiastically and rotated his shoulders a few times. He liked Ossur. He pushed both of them, but not beyond what they were capable of. He never made Loki feel bad for not being able to keep up with Thor, and he gave equal time to both boys even though Loki wasn't really even supposed to be there. Loki trusted him, and wanted to please him, and always tried his hardest to do everything he asked.

"Thor? You seem tense. You all right?"

"I'm fine," Thor muttered. Loki's eagerness was annoying him. Everything about Loki was annoying him right now. Loki didn't have to be here; he could be out doing anything he wanted. Loki was here because he wanted to be. Thor was here because he _had_ to be.

"All right then, let's do it again, full speed this time. Loki, watch that one upward strike. If either of you forgets a move or fails to sufficiently block, the other claims the victory. And…begin."

Loki tried to think the moves "aloud" in his mind as he and Thor made them, but it was hard. He was really tired, and the muscles in his arms and shoulders were screaming at him. Thor wasn't tired at all, and was treating it like a real swordfight rather than a memorized, choreographed set of moves. His brain started to shut down and he fell back on muscle memory, reacting to Thor's strikes and making the counter-strikes that seemed to flow naturally because they'd been practiced so many times. But it got harder and harder, and when they reached the same point where Loki had almost lost control of his sword even in the slow-paced practice run, Thor's sword drove upward and to the right and Loki's flew right out of his hand. Loki reached up and back, trying in vain to get hold of it again, even as he grimaced, knowing what would happen next.

Thor "stabbed" him in the chest, and, reaching backward as he was, Loki lost his balance and fell back. Just as his bottom hit the ground and his head was about to as well, instead of another tap to the chest to claim victory, Thor hit him hard with the blunt, blocky end of the sword.

Loki cried out on the whoosh of air that left his lungs.

His body felt light, and there was no pain after the initial impact, only a strange and uncomfortable pressure on his chest. His breaths seemed to come with difficulty, and he could swear he heard a soft whistling sound with each one. Ossur's face, then Thor's appeared above him; their mouths were moving but no sound was coming out. Loki tried to smile, to tell them he was all right, that he would try harder next time, but then he thought perhaps he would just rest a while first, and everything faded away.

* * *

/

_The heart of Thor's side of this story, that Alfheim represents the freedom he doesn't have, is very vaguely inspired actually by an interview I saw once with Tom Hiddleston, in which he discusses this difference between Thor and Loki, Loki having grown up with a type of freedom Thor didn't have. It was a typically insightful analysis from him and I've never forgotten it. (I'm sure others of you have seen it as well.)_

_And no, Thor did not _intend_ to hurt Loki here. But he was in an angry mood and acted recklessly. Sound familiar? ;-)_

_Hope you enjoyed it. Thanks for reading. I'd love to hear your thoughts!_


	3. Asgard Forever

_Just a quick note, I lied, turns out - there will be *four* chapters, possibly with an epilogue. And...the rest is already written. Just have to decide if I include the epilogue or not, and if so, if I put it up as a separate chapter or tacked on the end of Chapter 4._

/

* * *

**Moving to Alfheim**

**_Chapter 3: Asgard Forever_**

Thor sat crying on the floor outside the chamber of the Healing Room designated for serious injuries – a child's injury was almost always treated as serious – his mother bent over him. "I'm sorry, Mother," he said through his tears. "I didn't mean to hurt him. I was playing too rough," he said, falling back on words he'd heard many times in his life. It wasn't the first time Loki had gotten hurt while they were playing, or in this case training, but it was the first time Thor could remember being angry with his brother when it happened. And that made the guilt even worse.

"It was my fault, Your Majesty," Ossur said. "I knew something was bothering Thor. I knew he wasn't controlling himself as well as he normally does. I shouldn't have allowed him to fight like that. The princes' safety is my first priority, and I failed. If you wish to relieve me of my duties, I completely understand."

"No, Ossur. It's _my_ fault. Loki is too young for this. I never should have let him join Thor in his training. I gave in to what _they_ wanted instead of doing what was right for them as their mother."

"Mother…"

Frigga turned at the sound of Loki's voice, calling to her from the next room. She hadn't made it there yet, distracted by Thor's misery and Ossur's explanation of what had happened. Loki was looking up into First Healer Eir's eyes when she entered the chamber. He was on a narrow bed on his back, his chest bare, Eir's right hand hovering over it. When Frigga reached his side she grimaced at the bruise beginning to appear on his thin chest.

Loki saw his mother there and instinctively tried to sit up to throw his arms around her, but at the first movement upward intense pain forced him back down.

Frigga hurt terribly, too, to see her son in pain like this, and bent over to kiss his forehead, smooth his hair, caress his cheek. "How are you, sweet boy?" she asked.

"I'll be all right," Loki said, feeling better already now that his mother was with him. She took his hand in hers and intertwined their fingers; he squeezed her hand tightly.

"I'm glad you're here, Your Majesty. I was just explaining to Loki what's wrong, and how I'm going to heal him. Loki, you have a broken rib, right here," she said, her fingers just barely brushing the bruised skin. She'd explained this part already. "The bone is pressing into your lung, which is why it hurts when you take a breath now. I'm going to re-position the rib, and press it back together, but I'm not going to completely fuse it. You're still growing, Loki, you and your bones, so we need to let it do some of its healing naturally. For a few days, you'll need to be very careful, no playing, no fighting, no training..."

Frigga listened carefully, watching Loki more than Eir. No one had ever treated Loki but Eir, for of all the healers Eir alone knew the truth of who he was, and Loki trusted her as much as he did his family. He didn't look frightened at all, simply nodding here and there, while Frigga fought to keep her face displaying only calm, confidence, and love.

"When I move the bone, it's going to hurt, Loki. But only for a moment. I can't do much for the pain because I don't want to risk damaging your lungs, but I promise you, when I'm done you'll feel much better than you do now. Do you have any questions?"

Loki thought hard, but it was difficult to think about anything other than the pain that was coming his way. "My rib…will grow back together on its own?" he finally asked.

"It will," Eir answered with a nod.

Loki nodded back after a moment.

Eir called over one of the other healers and asked him to hold Loki's shoulders because it was important he stay still. "You're a brave boy," the man told him, and Loki tilted his chin up to look at him and worked up a smile.

Then his chest started to burn, and it hurt-hurt-hurt, countless pricks of pain combining into a single pulsing agony he couldn't escape, and he looked to Eir but her hands hovered over his chest and her eyes hovered over the same area, and he looked to his mother and she was gripping his arm and smiling strangely, and he looked up at the man holding his shoulders and preventing the struggles he couldn't help trying to make and he was nodding and saying something but Loki couldn't make it out. He squeezed his eyes shut and begged Eir to stop because it felt like she was slicing into his chest and taking things out.

And then he felt fingers on his cheeks. His eyes fluttered open and Eir's voice broke through his attempt to shut out the whole realm.

"It's over, Loki. I'm all done. You did very well. Take a deep breath."

He blinked a few times, tears still pooling in the corners of his eyes. He hesitated, because taking a deep breath had hurt before. But when he did it now, all he felt was a little soreness as his chest rose. He did it again, and it felt _good_, the soreness barely noticeable compared to the ability to breathe without pain. A smile spread over his face.

"My brave little Loki," Frigga said, leaning down over him to kiss him again, this time dabbing gently at his eyes with a soft white cloth. "Do you feel better?"

"Much better, Mother. Eir was right," Loki said, glancing gratefully at the healer.

Thor listened at the door, his hands gripping the doorframe so hard his fingers ached when he finally released it.

/

* * *

/

Eir wanted Loki to remain in the Healing Room for a few hours, to keep a close eye on him in case of any unforeseen complications, so Frigga went out and sent Thor reluctantly back to their chambers, told Ossur they would discuss the boys' training tomorrow, and then went back to sit by Loki's side. Loki asked for Thor, and Frigga felt bad for sending him away, but she could tell Loki was tired and thought it best for his recovery if he got some sleep. It took only about ten minutes before his eyes closed and he drifted off into peaceful slumber.

She let go of his hand and placed it at his side, then sat back and watched her beautiful boy as he slept, his breathing easy and untroubled. She had a decision to make, she and Odin. Loki was younger, smaller, more fragile than Thor; at their age, even ten months made a difference as their bodies matured to the durability that came with adulthood, presumably Loki's as well, although they couldn't be sure how he would develop. But he would be disconsolate if she forbade him from joining Thor in his training. Frigga fell back into memory…

"I'm thirsty," Loki said, looking up at her with his big gray-blue eyes wider than normal.

Frigga looked down at him and tried to blink away the sleep. It was late, and she'd already stayed with him until well past his normal bedtime, singing to him and reading to him and waiting for him to fall asleep without his brother. As she woke up further, she realized what was going on. The boys had clean cups in their bathroom, Loki's bathroom now, so that they could get water from there any time they needed it. Yet Loki had come here, to her and Odin's bedchamber.

She smiled and bent down to take his hand, then led him past the bed where Odin slept and into their own bathroom. There she got him a drink of water, then asked quietly if he was ready to go back to bed. He looked down at his feet and didn't answer, but he may as well have shouted that he didn't want to go back there alone. Frigga sighed. When Odin was away with Thor and Loki had to stay home because he was sick, she'd let him sleep in the bed with her, but that was a temporary situation. Bringing Loki into the bed with her and Odin now could set a bad habit. It would be difficult for him, but he needed to get used to going to sleep without someone else in the room.

But Loki's big innocent eyes were back on her again, windows to his sweet heart, and she could never resist him when he looked at her like that. "How about we go back to your bedchamber, and I stay with you and read you another story?" she asked, already deciding that if he seemed to need it, she would stay with him the rest of the night. There was enough room in Loki's bed.

He didn't quite manage a smile, but he gave a small sigh, perhaps of relief, and nodded.

/

* * *

/

Loki napped for about an hour and a half. When Eir saw he was awake she came over to check on him, and decided that she wanted to make another small adjustment to his rib. Loki's eyes went wide in fear, but Eir assured him this wouldn't hurt at all. He immediately relaxed, because Eir always told him the truth about these things. If it was going to hurt, she didn't pretend otherwise, so if she said it wouldn't hurt, he knew that it wouldn't.

He watched her hand and his chest closely, and felt a slight tickle. "How do you do that, Eir?" he asked, looking up at her as she worked with deep concentration.

She paused and met his eyes. "Put your hand on top of mine," she said.

Loki did so, and she began again; his eyes grew wide and his mouth dropped open at the buzzing sensation he felt on his hand, followed by the tickling in his chest. Something was happening there, something around her hand, around his chest, _inside_ his chest, something powerful and strange and magical. The buzzing and tickling stopped, and he looked back up at Eir with an amazed and delighted grin lighting up his face.

Eir and Mother sat him up – it only hurt a little – then pulled a fresh tunic over his head. A tray appeared over his lap, attached to the bed, and a servant brought over a bowl of stew and two slices of soft warm bread, all of which he ate with gusto.

Not long after that, Eir said he could go home, and Mother picked him up from the bed and carried him all the way. She didn't do that very much anymore, but it was familiar and comfortable and warm, and Loki wrapped his arms and legs around her and buried his face in her neck, his full belly making him sleepy again.

He was half-asleep when they reached the royal chambers on the palace's top floor and his name was called. He opened his eyes, and Thor was standing there looking up at him as Mother carried him past.

"Are you all right?" Thor asked, trailing behind them, looking up at Loki whose head was now up and looking over their mother's shoulder.

Loki nodded. "I got to feel Eir healing my rib. It felt all tingly and buzzy. I could feel the magic on my hand," he said, enthusiasm growing in his voice as he woke up and the memories returned.

"Really? Didn't it hurt?"

Loki shook his head, but his mother spoke before he could. "Thor, go wait in the library. Your father and I will be there in a few minutes."

Frigga helped Loki get ready for bed, skipping the bath since he was so tired. She had him tucked in and kissed goodnight and was almost to the door when he sat up and called to her, grimacing from the sudden movement. "What is it?" she asked, going back to the bed.

"Will you bring me my mittens? I'm cold."

"I'll get you another blanket," she said.

"No, it's just my hands. Can I just wear my mittens?"

Frigga looked at him a moment longer with curiosity, for this was rather odd, but she saw no harm in it and soon went to the dresser drawer where mittens and hats and thick socks were kept. "Here you go," she said, handing him the red- and white-striped pair that was his favorite. He pulled them on, then rubbed his hands against his face and smiled, then laughed when he tried to pull the covers back into place and found he couldn't. Frigga straightened the covers and kissed him goodnight again, then turned out the light and left to go talk to Thor.

Loki lay in the dark alone, and hoped Thor would be there soon. He wasn't sure what time it was, but thought maybe it was earlier than his usual bedtime. That meant it could be a long time before he came to bed. He thought back with a frown to those nights after Thor's birthday, when his brother had moved out, how he'd come up with every reason he could think of to get out of bed and leave the oppressive loneliness of his bedchamber.

On the fourth night he'd woken up at some point from some vaguely bad dream he couldn't exactly remember, and seen scary things hiding behind every shadow. So he'd gotten up, but this time he didn't knock on his parents' door. Instead he'd tiptoed his way through the chambers until he reached the ornate double doors and pulled. The doors were heavy but enchanted to open easily from the inside, and as one of them swung open revealing the darkness of the corridor outside, a single torchlight glowing at each end, Loki nervously stepped over the threshold; he'd never left their chambers alone at night before. He took just a few steps before bumping into someone and gasping in fright. He looked up and from the outline of the man's shape he could tell it was one of the Einherjar guards. Loki squinted his eyes for a moment as the man lit something in his palm and held it up between them. The Einherjar was staring down at him with his usual stern expression and Loki's heart nearly beat right out of his chest as he stared right back up in wide-eyed fear, frozen in place.

"Is everything all right, Loki?" the Einherjar asked in a deep but quiet voice.

"Y-yes?" Loki said with a rising intonation that made the word sound like a question.

"Can I help you with anything?"

"N-no. Thank you. I'm just…g-going to see…my brother. Downstairs," Loki said, not feeling any of the confidence his words might have suggested, expecting to be sent back inside any minute.

"I see," the guard said, then gave him a short bow and stepped back into position against the wall next to the door.

Loki just stood there and stared for a moment. _No one_ bowed to him; _he_ wasn't officially a Prince of Asgard yet. He swallowed hard, then padded down the corridor in his bare feet, breaking into a run once he reached the stairs. At the next landing he raced for Thor's door – he'd been there many times during the day and easily found it in the semi-darkness – then pulled it open and slipped inside, stopping to catch his breath once it closed behind him. A minute later he made his way through the antechamber and into the bedchamber, where his brother was sleeping on his usual side of the bed, one arm hanging over the side. Loki climbed up, and once on top, he settled under the covers and fell asleep to the familiar soft sound of Thor's breathing.

/

* * *

/

Odin, it turned out, wasn't back yet from a dinner meeting. He'd stopped in to check on Loki while he was sleeping, then had to return to his duties. Frigga had hoped he'd be back by now.

"Thor…were you angry with Loki because of what we talked about this morning? About moving to Alfheim?"

Thor shook his head, but then something around his eyes tightened and he started to nod. "I was, but Mother, I promise, I wasn't trying to hurt him. I would never hurt him on purpose. It was an accident. I wish it could be me that got hurt instead of him."

"Well, we'll have to figure something out about your training. You know you have to be careful with Loki, Thor."

"I know, Mother. I won't let it happen again. I'll be more careful."

"And don't be mad at your brother for something he can't help. Being king comes with wonderful privileges, but also serious responsibilities. Being the brother of a king comes with fewer responsibilities, but some additional difficulties. But please, Thor, don't worry about things like this right now. Your father is going to be king for a long time to come. Right now you're both the same. Both princes, brothers, sons of a king. Sons of a queen," she said reaching down to pull him into a hug. "All right?"

Thor nodded and hugged her back, and a few minutes later he was headed back to his bedchamber, eager to see Loki. His mother was right, he knew. Just like the thumbnail chewing that Loki did in his sleep, Loki couldn't help that he was born second.

It was dark in their room, one small lamp flickering over by the door to the bathroom. Loki was awake, and his head turned to follow Thor – he assumed it was Thor – into the room, until he reached the bed, and then he could see for certain it was Thor.

Thor looked over at his little brother under the covers, and he _looked_ fine, but… "Loki…are you sure you're all right? I heard, when Eir fixed your broken rib. It sounded like it must have been awful."

"Oh, _that_ part hurt. But it only hurt for a little while, then I felt a lot better, just like Eir said. It doesn't hurt now." It _was_ a little sore, but he knew his brother felt bad enough.

"I'm glad," Thor said, then fell silent for a moment, unsure what to say next. "Can I sleep in your bed tonight, Loki?"

Loki grinned and nodded, and Thor, already bathed and in his nightclothes, pulled the covers back and climbed in. They lay there in silence for a while, both of them on their backs. "I'm sorry about today, Loki. I didn't mean to hit you that hard," Thor finally said, turning his head to look at Loki.

"I know. I forgive you."

"You aren't mad at me, really?"

"No," Loki said with a short sigh and a frown. "It's just…"

"What? Tell me," Thor said, pushing up in his left elbow, just as he'd done the night before.

"I'm not mad at you, but…I heard what Mother said to Ossur. That I was too young to be training with you. That she shouldn't have let me do it. I'm afraid she won't let me anymore, now that I got hurt."

"But…but you're not too young. You can do all the moves. You know them just as well as I do. It's not fair if you don't get to train anymore just because I did something stupid. I'll talk to her, Loki. I'm a Prince of Asgard now, she'll have to listen."

Loki laughed. He liked it when his big brother stuck up for him, but sometimes Thor just got silly thoughts in his head. "She's the _queen_ of Asgard, Thor, I don't think she actually has to listen to you."

"Well, I'll convince her anyway. Somehow. It's my fault, not yours. I'm really sorry, Loki. I was fighting you too hard, and I could see how tired you were. I should've been more careful."

"I already said I forgive you. It's all right, Brother. Besides, you didn't even break any rules."

Thor thought about that. Loki was right, sort of. He'd done exactly what he was supposed to do, exactly what Ossur told him to do. If either of them made a mistake, the other should claim the victory. But Thor's victory had hurt Loki, because he'd claimed it too roughly, because he'd been caught up in his own anger. He frowned and looked at Loki, whom he noticed was keeping very still. "I broke the rule that says you don't hurt your brother. I was just mad about something stupid and I…I kind of took it out on you. But it wasn't your fault."

"I won't wake you up anymore," Loki said with a hesitant smile.

"What?" Thor asked, thoroughly confused.

"With my whistling. I promise I won't."

"Your- No, Loki, that's not what I was mad about. I was…I was just thinking about what we were talking about last night."

"Moving to Alfheim?"

Thor nodded, but it took him a moment to respond. "What if it was the other way around?"

"What do you mean?" Loki asked, wondering if Thor was imagining them as princes of Alfheim instead of Asgard. That would be strange, because then they would have those funny ears, and his skin would probably be darker, or he hoped so, because then he wouldn't get sunburned by Alfheim's two suns.

"I mean…Muli and his brother. What if it was _Muli_ that moved away to Alfheim?"

"Muli is nine, Thor. I don't think his parents would let him."

"No, Loki…" Thor sat up, and Loki looked at him in confusion and sat up too, a little more slowly and carefully and with a bit of a grimace, keeping the covers tightly wrapped around him. "What if…like Uncle Villi. He moved to Vanaheim. And he was the _younger _brother."

"But he was _old_ when he did that. Oh! You mean, what if _I _moved to Alfheim?"

Thor nodded. "You don't want to, do you?"

Loki pondered it seriously. "No," he answered after a moment. "I've been there three times now, and I like it, but I got a sunburn all three times. I don't think I'd want to live there."

"Oh, that's true," Thor said with a nod. "Especially that last time. You looked like a Fire Giant, except short."

Loki shuddered, remembering it. Even lying in bed had been agony, and Eir had only been able to ease the pain, not make it go entirely away.

"Forget Alfheim then. What about Vanaheim? Do you want to move there when you grow up, like Uncle Villi?"

Loki looked at Thor worriedly. "I like Vanaheim, too. Thor…do you want me to move away?"

Thor's eyes went wide. "What? No! Of course not. I mean…but…if you wanted to…"

"I don't. I don't want to move to Alfheim. Or Vanaheim. Or live underground on Svartalfheim or in a grass hut on Midgard or freeze on Jotunheim or melt on Muspelheim. Not without you. Never without you, Brother."

"But it's just…I won't be able to go with you. If you want to go when we grow up. I won't be allowed to. Asgard's king has to live on Asgard," Thor said, for the first time speaking of his expected future kingship as more of a punishment than a thrilling delight.

Loki pondered this, for he hadn't thought about it quite like that before. But it seemed fairly self-evident once he _did_ think about it, and Thor had essentially already said as much the night before. Loki wished he'd realized it then himself instead of getting so upset and worrying so much about it and keeping Thor up. "Well, of course he does. A king has to take care of his realm. How can he do it from somewhere else? But why would he want to, anyway? He's the _king_. Father is the most important and powerful man in all the Nine Realms. He defeated the Frost Giants and everyone respects him. He has everything he wants. And he can _do_ anything he wants."

Thor deflated even more at that. "He can't move to Alfheim," he said glumly.

"But why would he want to? Asgard is the best of the realms. Yggdrasil's crown. The Realm Eternal. Besides, if he _did_ move to Alfheim, we'd all go with him, and I'd have a permanent sunburn. My _bones_ would get sunburned."

"Your _thumbnails_ would get sunburned and then you couldn't chew on them anymore."

Loki wrinkled his nose. "Ewwww, stop." He pulled the mitten off his right hand underneath the covers, then made a show of inspecting the uncovered thumbnail, sticking it between his teeth, and biting down. He broke into laughter and released the fingernail when Thor bumped his shoulder.

Thor interrupted his own laughter abruptly. "Loki, I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No, Thor, I told you it doesn't hurt. Eir fixed it."

"Good," Thor said over a sigh, flopping back down on his back. "So it's settled then, right?" he asked a minute or so later. "Neither one of us is moving to Alfheim, right?"

"Right," Loki said, settling himself down carefully onto an elbow. "Asgard forever."

"Asgard forever," Thor repeated, pushing himself back up onto his left arm and sticking his right arm out, and awkwardly grasping Loki's left, since he was resting on his right.

Loki grasped Thor's arm back, and it was as though the two brothers were concluding some great treaty between the realms, affirming the existence of the invisible strings their mother said had connected them since they shared a crib. Thor tightened his grip then, as he did before they sparred before their trainer, and Loki instinctively tensed, eyes widening in alert, pulling back a little, tightening his own grip. Then Thor loosened his grasp and started to laugh. Loki laughed too, and all in one motion swung around until he was sitting up on his knees, grabbed his pillow, and hit Thor in the face with it. In a flash Thor was on his knees, too, and the treaty had dissolved into a full-scale pillow battle.

* * *

/

_Here's what's coming up:_

_Chapter 4: It All Ended with a Whistle (Really)_

_Chapter 5: Epilogue - Moving to Vanaheim_

_(Or, as I said, I may combine the epilogue in Chapter 4. The epilogue is very short, 615 words.)_

_Thanks for reading, thanks for reviewing! "Reviewer Person," thank you! And yes, I like to flip things around a bit from what everyone expects, in this case showing Thor's envy of Loki, along with both brothers' need for each other. And, yes, I write novels too, have never finished one, hope to do so after finishing my main story on here, hope to publish...we'll see!_


	4. It All Ended with a Whistle (Really)

**Moving to Alfheim**

**_Chapter 4: It All Ended with a Whistle (Really)_**

Suddenly Thor gasped, sucking in a mouthful of pillow before he could cough and pull it away from his face, and essentially surrendered. "Stop, stop, Loki! You'll get hurt again."

"I won't get hurt from a pillow. I'm _fine_, Thor," Loki said, still laughing.

"Hey, what's that?" Thor said, finally catching sight of the red- and white-striped mitten still on Loki's left hand.

Loki lifted the covers, now in serious disarray, and scrounged around until he found his other mitten, then pulled it onto his right hand. "So I won't whistle," he said with a smile.

Thor felt his heart sink. Lately it seemed like he couldn't do anything right. It had been no more than a jest when he'd threatened to put mittens on Loki's hands. "Take them off, Loki," he said, reaching for his brother's hands.

"No!" Loki thrust his hands under the covers and away from Thor. "I don't want to wake you up. I…I want you to stay in here."

"Loki…you didn't wake me up. I woke up because I had to go the bathroom. I was just teasing you. Besides, I kind of missed it when I was in my own chambers. The whistling, and hearing you breathe. It was too quiet. And I was laying there all night long trying to figure out how you make that stupid whistle."

Suddenly Thor yanked up the covers with one hand and dove for the closest of Loki's hands with his other. He came up with the right hand and pulled off the mitten before Loki could stop him. "Loki Odinson, I demand that you show me how you make that whistle. I'm a Prince of Asgard and you have to listen to me."

"Mother says we're _both _princes," Loki said, trying to pull his wrist away and failing, and unable to get a good grip on it with his mittened left hand. "I just don't have the title yet. So I don't have to listen to you, _Thor_ Odinson."

"All right, then, I'm your older brother. So you _do_ have to listen to me."

Loki quit struggling and started laughing. "But I don't know how, Thor. I'm asleep."

"But you do it all the time, or you used to, anyway. So just try it. It'll feel natural. Come on, show me."

"I can't."

"Yes, you can," Thor said with a wide grin and started pushing Loki's hand up toward his face, careful not to be too rough.

"Stop it, Thor," Loki said, struggling again, then breaking out in laughter again. "All right, all right, I'll try." Thor instantly let go of his wrist and Loki stuck his thumbnail in his mouth, which didn't feel natural at all, actually. He took a few deep breaths in and out – enjoying how good something he'd taken for granted before felt – but no whistle was produced.

"You're doing it wrong. You look like a baby sucking its thumb, only you haven't figured out how to put your thumb in all the way. That's not what you look like when you do it."

"But I don't _know_ what I look like, Thor, I'm asleep!" Loki declared in exasperation.

"I'll show you, then. It's kind of like this," Thor said. He put his thumbnail in his mouth and tried to arrange his other fingers they way Loki held his, mumbling to himself that _this_ was not quite right and _that_ was not quite right. Loki pulled off his other mitten and tried it with his left thumb, and somehow that looked more like what Loki did in his sleep and Thor got excited, but then told Loki that when he chewed on his thumbnail his nose was usually stopped up and he was breathing through his mouth. "So try it again, but breathing through your mouth this time."

Loki tried it again, left thumb, positioned like Thor had demonstrated, breathing through his mouth. No whistle.

"No, you're breathing too hard, not like that, like this-"

"Thor, I'm _asleep_ when I do it, I can't-"

"So much talk of sleep for two boys who should in fact _be_ asleep by now," their father's voice boomed from the open doorway, causing both boys to look up and freeze instantly, Thor's thumbnail still in his mouth. "Thor, Loki, settle down. It's past your bedtime."

"Yes, Father," both boys said. "Sorry, Father," Loki added, pushing away a pillow that was still resting up against his chest.

"Loki, how are you feeling?"

"Fine, Father. It doesn't hurt at all. And Eir let me feel how she was healing it. The second time, anyway."

"She did, did she?" Odin asked, somewhat surprised, for Frigga hadn't told him that. He wasn't sure it was a good idea. "And Thor, you're going to make sure this doesn't happen again, aren't you? Training accidents happen, but your brother is still a child. He's more easily injured."

"Yes, Father," Thor said solemnly. "It won't happen again. I'll take good care of Loki."

Loki turned to Thor with an uneasy frown. It was nice to be taken care of, but it wasn't so nice to be singled out as "still a child." Ten months wasn't _that_ much of a difference.

"Good. You two get some sleep now," Odin said, turning to go.

"Father?" Thor called; Odin stopped and turned back toward his sons. "Did you ever want to move to Alfheim?"

"Alfheim…" Odin repeated, making a show of looking off into the distance and considering it. "Hmmm. The Needle Forest is quite beautiful, and the Grand Market is truly grand. But no, I've never wanted to live anywhere other than Asgard."

Thor nodded, relieved.

Loki leaned in slightly toward him and whispered, "See?"

"Although…" Odin continued, "right after the Ice War, Muspelheim did have a certain appeal."

Thor rolled his eyes and grinned; Loki smiled nervously.

"Goodnight, boys. You were making enough noise to wake a bilgesnipe earlier. I don't want to hear anything else from this room tonight."

"Goodnight, Father," they said in rough unison, and their father left.

"Did you hear that, Loki? He was talking to you," Thor said, jabbing an elbow lightly into Loki's arm.

Loki frowned and pushed him away. It wasn't like he _knew_ he was chewing his thumbnail, he couldn't help it. And sometimes Thor just didn't let up with his teasing. He knew whatever sound he made while sleeping wasn't loud enough to reach all the way to his parents' bedchamber, anyway.

"Come on, let's go to bed," Thor said, grabbing the pillow on Loki's lap.

Loki took the pillow that had landed closer to Thor's feet and lay back, putting it under his head. His chest twinged a little when he did it; probably starting a pillowfight wasn't actually his smartest idea ever. He thought back to what Father had said. "Thor…"

"No, Loki, it was a jest."

"Oh. I knew that. I was just checking."

"No one goes to live on Muspelheim."

"Well, I heard about this one-"

"No. Nobody moves to Muspelheim. _We_ aren't moving to Muspelheim. And we aren't moving to Alfheim. We agreed."

"We agreed," Loki seconded with a nod. He put a hand to his mouth to cover a yawn. "Goodnight, Thor."

"Goodnight, Loki."

Loki stayed on his back for longer than usual, but eventually rolled over onto his side, facing the wall, as he usually did.

Thor stayed on his back and thought about kings and princes and _not_ moving to Alfheim, and wondered why he and Loki had ever worried about that at all. They were Aesir. Why would they ever want to live anywhere other than the land of the Aesir, Asgard? And why would the Aesir king, most of all, want to live anywhere other than Asgard? Everyone in all the Nine Realms knew a king lived in the land he ruled, and he did so because he must think his realm the best. (Except for Asgard, which was _really_ the best. But those other kings couldn't rule Asgard, so they had to settle for what they thought was second best.) Even on Midgard, where kings proliferated and kingdoms could hardly be counted as their number apparently changed nearly every day, each king surely thought his land and his people the best. (Well, it wasn't like they knew any better on Midgard. They had little else to compare it to.) Even on Jotunheim, dark and freezing and horrible and ruined as he'd heard it was there, even had Jotunheim succeeded in conquering Midgard, King Laufey would not have just moved to Midgard; he first wanted to freeze Midgard to make it more like Jotunheim. And he probably still wouldn't have moved there, he probably still liked it best on Jotunheim.

Thor shivered and looked around the room nervously. That was _much_ too much thought about Frost Giants in a dark room alone with only his sleeping little brother.

Loki picked that moment to start whistling.

Thor sighed and leaned over Loki just as he had the night before. His left thumbnail was in his mouth, and he alternated between biting and sucking, and the high-pitched whistle came with every breath. Thor still couldn't figure out how Loki made the whistle. He rolled his eyes and settled back down on his back, his eyes falling on one of Loki's discarded mittens on the bed between them as he did so. Thor figured he might be lying awake for hours now. But he'd never tell Loki.

He glanced his brother's way again as the whistle faltered, then resumed. _Maybe it's magic,_ he thought. As Thor's eyelids grew heavy the whistle grew soothing, timed as it was to his brother's breathing, almost like a lullaby. Thor soon fell asleep, and dreamt of adventures across the realms with Loki at his side.

* * *

/

_I picture Loki as a natural worrier when he was a child. I guess I get it from the scene in _Thor_, Thor's full of exuberance to wipe out the Frost Giants and Loki's asking if any are really still around (though he perhaps looks more fascinated than worried there, I still think there's worry behind that). In general I think of Thor as a doer and Loki as a thinker. Not that Thor can't think or Loki can't do, just that these are their natural inclinations. And I think thinkers tend to worry more than doers. Anyway, so this is more of Loki's tendency to worry coming out, among various other little things. (Did you notice, now, BTW, that Loki completely lied to his mother about why he wanted the mittens?)_

_I think I will include the epilogue, it's just rather strange in a way...well, you can tell me what you think. It's Odin POV (part of the strange factor right there). ;-) Anyway, I'll put it up as Chapter 5._


	5. Epilogue -- Moving to Vanaheim

_**Moving to Alfheim**_

**Chapter 5: Epilogue – Moving to Vanaheim**

Outside the open door and out of sight of his sons, Odin smiled somberly. No, no one was moving to Muspelheim, or to Alfheim. Not now. But once, as a young man, his first serious relationship in tatters, he'd longed to abandon Asgard for good and follow his younger brother Villi to Vanaheim. He'd done it, in fact, though he'd known it couldn't really be permanent. He'd turned up on Villi's doorstep sullen and unannounced and been taken in by Villi and his wife.

But Villi had his own life to lead and didn't need an older brother in the middle of his new marriage. Odin had his own life to lead, too, and couldn't spend it cowering in one of Villi's guest rooms. Asgard was his home and his duty. Three days after moving to Vanaheim he'd moved back to Asgard. Five days after that Frigga forgave him his foolishness, and two days after that he proposed.

He'd never wanted to move anywhere else ever again. Not really. (The few hundred times, in the early years of their courtship and marriage, in the moments after a particularly fiery argument, couldn't be counted against him.) Only Frigga had actually left, just once, also to Vanaheim, staying there precisely four days – one day longer than he had – to make a point, she'd told him later. _"That you're more stubborn and foolish than I am?"_ he'd asked incredulously. Which had of course led to another fight. But all that was long past, fair game for good-natured private teasing now.

Thor had come into their lives as a bright spot of joy in a time of darkness, an infant existing more in Odin's imagination than his memory, having spent only a few days here and there in Asgard since his birth until the war was over. He'd given Odin a reason to fight even harder, to rally his warriors with unflagging confidence, to bring the Ice War to as swift an end as possible. For Thor, Odin hoped that he would grow up strong and brave and wise, and someday find a woman worthy of him and of Asgard. That Thor himself would be worthy of this woman and of Asgard. That he would never feel the need to flee to Vanaheim or Alfheim or anywhere else, and that if for some reason he did, he would realize his foolishness and return as quickly as his father had.

Loki had come into their lives as a symbol of hope. An infant born of an enemy had survived the horrors of war and abandonment, an infant who would grow up to ensure that two realms would never again war against each other. But that infant, this child, had burrowed his way into his parents' hearts, and abstract ideas had long since given way to the inescapable reality that Loki was as much a part of their family as Thor, that the plans they'd had for him were now impossible. For Loki, Odin hoped merely that he would not be too different, though there had already been signs that he was. For him to live a happy life in a realm he was not born to, that nature had never intended to be his.

Odin stayed, listening, until he heard nothing but soft snoring and that odd whistle from inside the boys' bedchambers. That would be Thor, sleeping on his back, he thought with a chuckle. Loki would be asleep beside him, curled up on his side or sprawled out on his stomach, never on his back.

He took a quick peek inside the room and found exactly what he expected, Thor on his back snoring, Loki on his side, knees tucked up. His boys were different, even in how they slept. He would have to try to keep those differences at bay, the real ones, the ones that mattered, when they arose, if they arose. If they arose _again_.

But no, he thought, pushing the worry aside and letting his heart be warmed by the sight of his two sleeping sons, no one was moving to Alfheim tonight.

**The End**

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/

_A few final thoughts here: For me in many ways this story is about showing parallels with divergences, which is part of why I decided to include this bit of Odin's POV as well. Two brothers, two nights, two conversations – one in which Thor reassures Loki about what moving to Alfheim represents to Loki, and one in which Loki reassures Thor about what moving to Alfheim represents to Thor. Two parents who also try to reassure, in their own ways. A parent who hugs and kisses and dotes and loves up-close and personal, a parent who hovers in doorways and loves from afar. And…I kind of liked the idea that Odin had his own "moving to Alfheim" moment; I wanted to "humanize" him a bit, you might say._

_I'll keep quiet on other things I was trying to say in this chapter and let you think about it if you like. "If they arose _again_" is slightly unfair to you at the moment, it references a story that exists in my head and only a bit of it written down (it's mentioned on my profile page, _Like Any Other Child_)._

_Thanks for reading, thanks for reviewing...thanks for joining me on this short ride. I hope you enjoyed it!_


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